Quick's Garden of Lies

Garden of Lies / Amanda Quick    
New York: Putnam, c2015.
359 p.

I was under the weather this week, so it was perfect timing getting my hands on the latest Amanda Quick novel. These are my favoured go-to reads when I need to simply read something light and entertaining. I love her books -- under this name as well as those under Jayne Ann Krentz and Jayne Castle -- though I think the Regency/Victorian Quick books are my favourites.

In her last few books I found she was getting a bit too dependent on her long-running Arcane Society theme, and the stories were starting to sound 'samey'. Thankfully in this one she's back on form, and the story is fresh and funny.

Ursula Kern owns a secretarial agency in Victorian London. One of the women in her employ dies; Ursula is convinced it was murder. So she resigns from her current client, former archaeologist Slater Roxton, in order to investigate. Slater, however, is not about to let her disappear from his sight, and so joins her in her investigations (along with his requisite household staff of endearing oddballs). Sparks are flying every which way in this story, and this pairing seems well-matched. Ursula is independent and a bit of a smart-ass; Slater is strong and silent, with a troubled back story and a sensitive side.

There are lots of fun bits riffing on the Victorian crazes for botany and archaeological expeditions, not to mention new inventions like the typewriter. This follows Quick's general formula, one that succeeds for her every time, if the New York Times Bestseller list is to be believed. This was an enjoyable addition to her ever-growing list, and I think that the Kern Secretarial Agency could probably shoulder one or two more books.

This story has mysterious drugs, brothels, spurned wives, evil American assassins, lost civilizations, aged fallen actresses, blackmail, scandal....and a main character who uses the labyrinth as a meditative tool. Really! I couldn't believe it. If you've read my blog for any length of time, you may know that I teach and use the labyrinth, and to see it here both as a metaphor and an actuality was pretty neat.

Slater has an old Roman tile labyrinth in the basement of his London home, and early in the book he wakens from a nightmare, and heads to the labyrinth for answers:

He knew that the dream was his mind's way of telling him that he needed to rethink some of his logic.
He needed to walk the labyrinth...

...the tile path formed an intricate, convoluted pattern that eventually led to the center. Some would have said that it looked like a maze. But a maze, with its many pathways that ended in dead ends, was designed as a puzzle, created to confuse and bewilder. His labyrinth had only a single entrance and one true path the eventually brought the seeker to the center of the complicated design.

The very act of walking the labyrinth was a form of meditation requiring concentration and focus. The exercise helped him to see patterns hidden in chaos...
Time did not matter when he walked the labyrinth. If he tried to hurry the meditative process he would not see the pattern. It was only when he ceased to care about finding the answer that it would come to him.

In sum, I really enjoyed this read and thought it was a strong, creative, fun story. If you're already a fan of hers or if you like modern sensibilities in a story that is both set in the past and told with humour, you may find this romantic romp enjoyable too.

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Further Reading:

For another tale using gardens and botany as a major theme, you could try Barbara Michaels' The Dancing Floor. While it is less snappy and more of a traditional supernaturally inflected, faux-gothic romantic suspense story (and has a lot less frank sexual content) it still has the same appeal of setting and of a strong romantic connection between the lead characters.

And if what you are looking for next is simply a story of witty characters, an archaeological element, and a growing relationship between two supremely self-confident and pleasantly obnoxious lead characters, you can't go wrong with the first book in the Amelia Peabody series, Crocodile on the Sandbank, which, of all the lengthy series, is the most like a romance novel.

The Cleaner of Chartres

The Cleaner of Chartres / Salley Vickers
New York: Plum, 2014, c2012.
296 p.

And the third in my trio of books set in France, this is a more modern and mysterious story than the others.

Agnes Morel is a stranger to Chartres, despite having lived there for nearly 20 years. She is a quiet, reclusive woman, trying to keep on living despite a dark secret in her past. Because of this secret, she doesn't make friends lightly -- she really only has one or two.

Agnes works as a cleaner, both for the great Chartres Cathedral and for local residents. This occupation gets her into some hot water, as one jealous housefrau accuses her of theft and then stirs up gossip about her past, becoming obsessed with uncovering Agnes' secret. This situation drives most of the action of the story, although most of the actual "action" takes place in the past, and here we are finally seeing the truth and its repercussions.

Chartres is a beautiful part of this book; the town's side-by-side modernity and very ancient history creates a wonderful setting. Scenes of Agnes scrubbing the 11th century labyrinth on her knees, following the path as she goes, are a rich symbol of her daily existence as a penitent, trying to atone for her previous life. There are quite a number of mentions of the labyrinth in this novel -- how could there not be, when it is such a part of Chartres? (and a large part of the inspiration for this novel). Agnes' lonely work in an empty, quiet cathedral is beautiful and evocative, even when suddenly broken by the appearance of Alain, a stone mason working far above on repairs. It was because of my own interest in the labyrinth that I picked up this book in the first place, hoping to see some mention of it; it is discussed and evoked in a wonderful manner, wholly within the context of the story.

Gentle priests, troubled women, painters, artists, restaurateurs...there are many intriguing characters living in the old town of Chartres, interacting with Agnes as she moves in her daily round, brushing against the walls she's set up to protect herself, drawing her into community. In this way I see the structure of the whole book as a labyrinth; Agnes is following the same path as others, though they are all in different places.

But even without a fascination for the labyrinth like mine, readers can enjoy a well-developed character in Agnes, and the strong presence of France itself as the setting for her story. It's a slow-moving book that depends on characters being exposed bit by bit, through indirect means -- it's perfect for those who enjoy stories based on character, told in language that is also full of images, reflecting the fragmented nature of Agnes' past life. I really enjoyed this book, as it slowed me down to follow the twists of the sentences and the story. But it also held lots of human behaviour that made this deceptively quiet; there are many incidents despite the slower pace. It's worth getting to know Agnes, and especially Chartres.


Further Reading:

Joanne Harris' Chocolat captures the same feeling of a strange woman in a small French town who mysteriously causes things to happen, and people to change.

An Uncertain Age by Ulrica Hume also centres around Chartes and delves into its mysterious esoteric past. It features characters who are on a philosophical search for meaning and who experience things that can't always be explained.